


King Size

by stoven (orphan_account)



Series: Trope Bingo 2018 [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Curtain Fic, Domestic, Furniture Shopping, Implied Sexual Content, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-12
Updated: 2018-12-12
Packaged: 2019-09-16 18:51:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16959582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/stoven
Summary: One thing Steve regret after adjusting to the future is not being picky about his bed. He insisted that Bucky pick the best thing for himself, and take as long as he needs.





	King Size

**Author's Note:**

> written for the prompt 'curtain fic' for trope-bingo on dreamwidth

“This one?” Steve asks, as Bucky spends twice as long rolling around on this particular display bed, the third one in the last ten minutes. He is still for a moment, testing some comfort level Steve can not determine. Finally, he stands and moves onto the the next display. 

Bucky sits, a bit gingerly. He bounces up and down, then lays down and spread out his arms, his legs still bent over the edge of the mattress. He rolls left, then right. Curls up with his hand tucked under his chin. He’s that way for another minute before he abruptly stands, and walks over to a new display. 

Steve just huffs out a laugh, and follows him. 

Bucky has been going through “future rehabilitation adjustment” the last 6 months, and is coming to live in Steve's apartment. One thing Steve regret after adjusting to the future is not being picky about his bed. He insisted that Bucky pick the best thing for himself, and take as long as he needs. 

They have been shopping for furniture for three hours. So far, they’ve gone to five different places, and they haven’t even looked at the end tables or dressers, yet. 

Steve doesn’t mind. He wants Bucky to be comfortable. 

When Steve looks over again, Bucky is sitting four beds away. He bounces a little, testing the softness maybe, and lies down with his arms spread out as he’s done with every bed prior. One minute passes, then two, then five. Bucky sits up and looks over at Steve, and calls him over with his arm. 

Steve’s knees hit the edge of the mattress when he walks up, leans over to Bucky and grins real easy. “Find one ya like?”

Bucky tilts his head so his hair falls over his shoulder, “Sit.” He says. 

So Steve does. The bed is fairly firm, but soft enough that there’s some give under his weight. 

“Lay down.” Bucky says.

So Steve does. The mattress feels like a solid embrace against his back. Bucky catches his eye and raises an eyebrow, asking without words.

“It’s real good, Buck.” He says.

“You just saying that, or you mean it?” Bucky asks when he turns to face Steve. He’s curled up on his side and Steve has never seen him look so at ease on a piece of furniture. 

“No, I really mean it. Feels good, I’m glad you found it.” 

Bucky smiles, and it makes Steve’s heart catch in his throat. He gets up from the bed in an instant and strides over to the closest sales floor associate, leaving Steve on the bed.

“We’ll take that one in a King,” Bucky says, when he turns back to Steve he’s smirking— it’s a full on _smirk_ and it’s good to see on Bucky’s face, if a bit confusing. 

It takes all of ten minutes for Bucky to pick out the rest of his stuff— a dresser, a side table, and a lamp. Steve decides not to comment on the size of the bed or the haphazard way he’d picked the rest of the items. 

It takes another couple of days for everything to be delivered, but the truck gets there and he and Bucky decide to just take the stuff up to the apartment themselves— it’s less work for them than the delivery guys anyway— and start on rearranging the new room for Bucky. 

Bucky is finishing the sheets on the bed while Steve adjusts the side table and lamp wire, when he says, “I know we still gotta move all your stuff in here, but how about we break in this bed first?” 

Steve freezes in place. There’s so much to take in, so Steve starts with one piece at a time.

“My stuff?” And to his horror his voice squeaks, so he clears his throat and tries again, “What do you mean, ‘my stuff’? This is your room, Buck.”

“Our room,” Bucky says, stepping closer. His footsteps are light, and quiet. A deadly force, Steve’s brain supplies, and he swallows audibly. “You think I got this big ol’ bed all for myself, Stevie?”

Steve shudders at the nickname, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up, and a hot thrill travels down his spine. 

“So, let’s take a breather from the heavy lifting, and break this baby in.” Bucky is nearly touching him now, and Steve wants so badly to reach out and bring Bucky in the rest of the way. Feel their bodies pressed together. 

“How would you like to do that?” Steve says, feeling bold, somehow.

Finally, finally, Bucky wraps his arms around the width of Steve’s shoulders, a satisfied breath escapes him as he leans into Steve’s ear. He says, “Take me to bed, and _fuck me_.”


End file.
